


Those Boots

by IdrilsSecret



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1572065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrilsSecret/pseuds/IdrilsSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glorfindel gives Erestor the gift that keeps on giving. Follows the story 'Mine', but can be read as a stand alone one shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Boots

The tension had been mounting all night. From the very beginning of the dinner Erestor felt his blood stir. Glorfindel had strolled into the room looking so regal. Tonight he was held in high honor, and his dress must match his ranking as one of the High Elves. His usual warrior garments would not do for an occasion such as this. Instead, he wore his high collared white silk tunic, and a full length blue jacquard overcoat with gold embroidery. He even wore braids in his hair, something Erestor couldn’t remember ever seeing him wear before. Glorfindel looked like he’d been delivered straight from Valinor, and he glowed as though the light of Telperion rested on his shoulders.

Erestor had never seen Glorfindel look so magnificent. He looked youthful and fearless, full of strength and vigor, yet wisdom of the ancient times marked the small creases at the corners of his eyes. It reminded Erestor of how long lived Fin actually was, born unto the Years of the Trees. There were only a few elves left in Middle-earth who could claim this history, and they were here tonight.

For only an instant Erestor thought he wasn’t worthy to be amongst them, or to be worthy to claim Glorfindel as his mate, but the thought quickly dispersed, replaced with the excitement of knowing that this beautiful creature really was his. He could not let his elation show though, not while entertaining such important guests. Tonight, Elrond had invited Erestor and Glorfindel to a dinner party in honor of the Lady Galadriel and her husband, Lord Celeborn of Lothlórien. 

Erestor was honored to attend, and of course, Glorfindel was always happy to spend time with Lady Galadriel. It had been an enjoyable evening thus far, but beneath all the niceties, the counselor was burning with desire.

Glorfindel had been an incorrigible flirt all evening, drawing Erestor’s attention to those small things that made his libido shoot through the roof. It started with short glances, Glorfindel’s eyes capturing his. But those innocent looks turned into hungry eyes undressing him. Then, the elf lord started playing with his golden waves of soft hair, twisting a strand around his finger. Erestor loved to do this to Fin, the feel of the cool hair sent him into a calming trance. It usually ended with Erestor taking fistfuls of the gilded mane into his hands, as he pulled his warrior lover down upon him. 

This last flirtation was almost too much for the counselor’s weakened resistance. As Lord Celeborn was talking to Glorfindel and a few other guests, the elf lord unhooked the top fastenings of his collar with subtle movements. It wasn’t the unbuttoning that made Erestor go weak in the knees, but how he did it, running a finger along the edge of the collar, fingertip swirling over the hidden purplish mark where Erestor had recently bitten Fin during a heated session of love making … and a glorious night it had been, Erestor reflected.

Glorfindel had recently been gone on one of his many outings, but this one had lasted a few weeks. Needless to say, Erestor was very anxious to see his partner return, and they made up for those lonely nights. Normally, they would spend an evening with dinner and stories of Glorfindel’s latest adventures before retiring to their quarters, but Erestor forwent all the homecoming affairs, and escorted his lover straight to his room. A trail of discarded garments marked the path to Erestor’s bed chamber where they had spent an entire evening alone. The normally subdued counselor had dominated the night, finally marking is lordly lover with a deep sucking kiss on the neck. He could still taste Glorfindel’s supple flesh upon his tongue, and smell the musky scent of his readiness. Thoughts of that salacious evening made Erestor’s body thrum.

It was becoming much too difficult to finish out the dinner. Erestor needed to get Fin alone. They had done their duty, and the dinner party was winding down. The meal had concluded half an hour ago, and the wine they now sipped was going straight to Erestor’s blood, heating him most deliciously. Now, if he could only get Glorfindel to follow his lead, maybe they could politely excuse themselves from the party. The counselor could hardly wait, he wanted the warrior so badly. His desire was strung as tight as a bowstring. Tonight, Erestor just might have to make a twin mark somewhere upon Glorfindel’s body.

During a lull in the conversation, Erestor pushed his chair back, stretching his arms as he did, but not trying to look too obvious. After all, this was the Lady Galadriel, not just a common guest. His plan worked so far. No one paid him much attention, but Glorfindel turned his eyes towards him with a quick glance. He was presently speaking with Lord Celeborn, not an easy person to excuse oneself from, but Glorfindel would find a way.

Erestor stood from the table, and joined a group of elves who had been discussing some controversial manuscripts from a First Age scribe, something the counselor was expertly knowledgeable in. Besides, it would do to take his mind off of Glorfindel for a moment or two, and get his wandering lustful thoughts under control. As he became engulfed in the discussion, his body and mind composed itself. He was enjoying the rewards of being a knowledgeable scholar, when he was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. There stood Glorfindel, the scent of oak moss titillating his olfactory senses. Ah, so he had used the lichen based oil after his bath. Erestor had left it on the shelf in the bathing room as a small gift, for he loved the scent and it was most agreeable on Fin.

“Good evening, Lord Glorfindel,” said one of the elves that stood with Erestor. “I do hope you’ll be sharing stories of your latest adventures.”

“Yes,” said another. “We always look forward to it. We’ve been biding our time waiting for you to entertain us.”

Erestor gave the others a harsh look of criticism. Did they consider discussing ancient histories with the chief counselor of Imladris, ‘biding their time’?

The first elf that spoke caught Erestor’s crooked look and blushed, “Present company excluded, of course. We apologize, Counselor. My friend’s words did not come out quite right.”

“Yes, well,” Erestor said as he furrowed his brow and turned to Glorfindel, only to find the elf lord amusedly smiling at the cultured group. “I’m sure Lord Glorfindel will be delighted to share his tales, but perhaps he would like a short reprieve before he delves into his stories. You look a bit parched after speaking with Lady Galadriel. Care to join me on the veranda for something to perhaps … wet your tongue?” Erestor’s hazel eyes seemed to darken as he addressed Glorfindel, hoping he took the hint. Just a few moments alone so he could kiss those delectable lips, and run his fingers through those gilded cascading waves of Fin’s hair. Anything to help ease the lust that was consuming him tonight.

It seemed to work. Glorfindel picked up on Erestor’s meaning, “Actually, I am a touch weary tonight for some reason. Perhaps I’ll turn in a bit early and—”

“Nonsense,” said a voice coming up from behind Erestor and Glorfindel. They turned to find Lord Celeborn had joined their group. “Glorfindel the Mighty … tired?” He gave a chortle and clasped Fin’s shoulder, “I’ll believe that the day they tell me that dwarves turn their noses up at shiny things.”

The rest of the elves laughed quietly at Celeborn’s humor, and the Lord of Caras Galadhon continued. “My wife gained your attention throughout dinner. It is only fair that you captivate us now that we have waited patiently to have you to ourselves.” Celeborn’s smile was infectious. He was a very kind and sincere elf, very difficult to say no to. Erestor saw his chances of getting Glorfindel to himself start to disappointedly slip away.

Glorfindel smiled to Celeborn and nodded. “Well now, I suppose I cannot turn down the Lord of Lothlórien, but,” and here he turned to Erestor, “I just need a word with the counselor first, if you don’t mind.”

Celeborn and the scholars nodded in agreement, and Glorfindel led Erestor away from the group. They disappeared from the room, out into the hallway. Fin leaned towards Erestor’s ear. “Forgive me, Meldanya, but I think I should—”

Erestor forced a smile and composed himself professionally. “It’s alright. Besides, what’s a few moment’s wait? Go and entertain your admirer’s.”

Glorfindel stood close enough that Erestor could feel the heat from his body illuminate his own skin. This did not help matters much, as the counselor felt his loins begin to ache. He shouldn’t be this anxious to join with Glorfindel. In his mind, it was not very becoming behavior, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself tonight. All the flirting between them … it had become wonderfully arousing, but satisfaction was not coming any time soon. Lucky for Erestor, his patience was well developed.

“I promise not to be too long,” Glorfindel assured him. “Only one story, and not a very extensive one.”

“I think I will retire to my rooms for the evening. Come when you are done here,” Erestor said.

“Why don’t you go to my quarters instead? I brought you a gift. I meant to give it to you in person, but go ahead and open it if you like. You can tell me what you think when I come later.” Glorfindel’s warm breath caressed Erestor’s ear, making resistance pointless.

“Alright,” Erestor agreed without argument. “But only one story, and do not let Celeborn talk you into more.”

Glorfindel bent and lightly grazed his lips across Erestor’s mouth, teasingly. “I won’t. I promise,” he whispered.

He stepped away and Erestor was about to turn to leave, when Glorfindel rushed at him, pinning him against a stone column. The elf lord brazenly kissed Erestor, plowing his tongue into the warmth of his mouth. The counselor felt his body liquefy from the passionate kiss. Glorfindel’s hips dug into his, and he knew his lover could feel his readiness. Glorfindel released him and huffed a heated laugh into his ear, “Hmph, I love how easy it is to bring you standing.”

Before Erestor could think of a clever comeback, Fin left and went back to join the growing group of elves who had situated themselves in the sitting room. Erestor was paralyzed at the moment, his legs unwilling to move. He took the time to steady himself and regain his cool composure. He adjusted his braids, took a deep breath, and thanked the Valar that he was wearing his heavy brocaded multi layered robes. Some things had a mind of their own, no matter how much he tried to contain himself.

Erestor knew he must seek out the Lady Galadriel and say good evening to her before he retired for the night. As he floated past the doorway to the sitting room, he glanced inside to see Celeborn handing Glorfindel a fresh glass of deep burgundy colored wine. They were settling in for an adventuresome evening of entertainment. The counselor knew Fin loved an audience, and now he began to doubt that his lover could resist telling multiple stories. No matter, Erestor thought, Glorfindel was in his element and enjoying every moment. He deserved the attention. The counselor could wait, he thought unconvincingly to himself.

* * *

Once at Glorfindel’s home, Erestor’s spirits began to lift. A gift, he thought, and wondered what it might be. On a table by the fireplace, was a parcel wrapped in plain linen and tied with a piece of twine. It was a fairly decent size package, and he was anxious to find out what it was. He carefully untied the string and unfolded the neatly wrapped gift to find a pair of tall leather boots inside. They were a beautiful shade of grey, and in the light, they seemed to change color to look more like blue. They were made in a patchwork style, the stitching as straight as an arrow, laces running up the back of the shoes, and the tops folded over like cuffs. Erestor picked them up and instantly noticed how soft the leather was. He had never felt anything like it before, the supplest leather he’d known.

Erestor took the boots and sat on a chair close to the hearth. He took his current shoes, black anklet slippers, and kicked them off. Then he loosened the laces of the new shoes and slipped his feet into them. They felt luxurious, hugging his calves and ankles. The leather was thin, but they held in the warmth of his body perfectly. He tightened the laces, and wrapped the extra length around the top several times, adjusted the cuffs and stood. The tops came up just to the bottom of his knees, the perfect height. These would make very sensible riding boots, he thought to himself. They were not stiff at all, and he made circles with his feet. “It’s like wearing no shoes at all,” Erestor said amazed by how much the shoes moved with his body.

The thought of riding boots made him wonder what Glorfindel might have in mind. Why gift him boots, unless Fin planned on a trip somewhere. Perhaps the next adventure Erestor would be asked to come along. “Lindon would be a fine place to visit again,” he said to himself. “Or Gondor even, which would explain the fine riding boots.” It was a long way to Minas Tirith from Rivendell.

The boots were expensive, Erestor noticed, made of the best leather to buy, each stitch painstakingly made by a cobbler who took pride in his talents. Glorfindel must have spent a fortune having them custom made to fit his feet so perfectly. That thought brought on another one. How did Glorfindel know his feet without Erestor actually having to visit the cobbler himself? “Does he pay such close attention to the small details?” he wondered. “Well, I am grateful to him for taking such care and concern for my comfort, no matter what his reasoning may be. And I know just how to show my appreciation.”

* * *

The house was all set. The fire had died to a nice ember glow. Lanterns were lit. An incense burned, filling the place with the sweet woodsy aroma of red willow bark. Erestor thought of using patchouli herb, but it was said to be used as a mental stimulant and an aphrodisiac. There was no need for any more stimulation, especially not after that fiery kiss they shared in the hallway of Elrond’s home. The after effects had been long lasting.

Erestor opened a bottle of wine earlier, allowing it to breathe. He set it on a small serving table, along with two glasses. As tempted as he was to start without Glorfindel, he decided it would be better to wait so that they could experience the internal warming of the rich bouquet together.

He entered the bedroom, fluffed the pillows that he’d already fluffed an hour ago, and thought of the time. An hour was not long for storytelling, not the way Fin told a tale, but he had promised not to tell more than one. Still, one story could last much longer than the length of time that had already passed.

“Calm yourself,” Erestor said. “It won’t be much longer, and you still have to decide what you will wear.” He went to the armoire where Glorfindel kept his clothes. Fin lived rather simply, and his home reflected that. The furniture pieces scattered throughout his house were very plain, with the exception of his wardrobe. It was the only ornate piece that he owned, something he said reminded him of the one he had as a youthful ellon when he still occupied his father’s house. The cabinet, that almost reached the ceiling, was made from a dark cherry wood. There were two doors with a drawer beneath each one. The doors were beveled, the center carved in a raised pattern depicting different game animals such as deer, elk, rabbit, quail and wild boar, all of which Glorfindel had hunted endless times. The feet of the wardrobe were shaped like the paws of some kind of large cat, and the top was finished with crown molding. It was a beautiful piece and very eclectic for Glorfindel’s simple tastes, but just like the elf lord himself, it was largely elaborate … the kind of thing one could not keep his eyes from.

Erestor opened the double doors and searched through three shelves of garments. Some of these things belonged to the counselor. He had left a small amount of clothing at Fin’s house, for those times when he hadn’t enough time to go home and change before his daily duties. None of these things would do. They were mostly his counselor robes, and though they were comfortable, they did nothing to entice one’s lover. He looked down at the boots he still wore, and smiled deviously to himself as a plan formed.

Another half hour proved to be difficult, but Erestor used the time well. Now he stood before the fireplace, feeling sure that Glorfindel was on his way. He couldn’t explain these little notions, but every so often his body reacted like a needle floating over water, finding north, and there would be Fin a moment later.

The burning embers still put off a decent amount of heat, and it felt most comforting. He rested his hand on the mantel shelf, and with the other, he undid the top fastenings of his robe, the one he wore to the dinner tonight. As he did so, he heard the doorknob twist, and his pulse instantly started racing. Erestor did not turn from the hearth, and kept his back to the door opposite where he stood.

“Oh, you’re here,” he said as nonchalantly as his rapidly beating heart would allow.

“Yes, finally,” Glorfindel responded, as would a hard working man, home from a long day’s work. “Lord Celeborn is very persistent, but as I promised, I stuck to telling just one story. It was the many questions afterwards that kept me later than I had liked.” Glorfindel entered his home, closing the door behind him, and then sniffed the air, “Is that red willow?”

“Yes, I thought you’d like that. And there is wine,” Erestor mentioned.

Glorfindel must have seen the parcel missing from the table. “Did you open your gift?”

“Yes I did, and I think you are too generous.” Erestor could hear Fin’s footsteps come to a halt where he stood by the table.

“And where are the boots? Have you tried them on? I had hoped that I got the size correct and—” Glorfindel’s words escaped him.

Erestor had been unfastening the rest his robe, and now let it puddle at his feet. He wore nothing but the grey leather boots. Smiling, he turned his head to the side and spoke over his shoulder, “They are a perfect fit. Do you like them?”

There was no answer at first, and Erestor could have sworn he heard Glorfindel’s breath catch before he answered, “I … find that my attention is not focused on the boots.”

Erestor smiled, satisfied with the knowledge that he had taken Fin off guard, not at all an easy thing to do. “Come and warm yourself by the fire.”

Glorfindel approached and Erestor was instantly wrapped in his strong warrior arms. His warm breath spread across the back of the counselor’s neck, and then a succulent mouth devoured his earlobe. “Do you know what a masculine beauty you are?”

“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted you all night?” Erestor responded.

Glorfindel laughed softly in his ear. “I had some idea. That’s why I kissed you in the hall, to help ease your need.”

“You only succeeded in fanning the flames.” Erestor shamelessly grinded his naked behind into Fin’s perfectly aligned loins.

“That seems to have been to my benefit,” Glorfindel said, and his hands traveled to Erestor’s hips, pulling him against his growing desire. “It’s getting a bit warm here by the fire.”

Erestor turned in his arms, and his hands instantly went to the fastenings of Glorfindel’s garments, “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

It took no time at all to undress Fin, and when he was rid of the last stitch, the elf lord kissed Erestor deep and hot, the kind of kiss that would linger upon his lips for days after. The kind of kiss that Glorfindel gave him before he left on another one of his long travels.

It was not easy being Glorfindel’s lover. He often left Imladris, sometimes for a few days, but sometimes for a few months. In a way, he was like an ambassador, going off to meet with different dignitaries, leaders, chieftains and Kings. He went when Lord Elrond could not, which was often. Since the war, Elrond preferred not to leave his Last Homely House. But Glorfindel did not mind, and took great pride and enjoyment traveling to the different lands. Erestor, too, was proud of Fin, but he could not deny the fact that he missed him greatly while he was away. And the kiss they just shared said that his next mission would be a lengthy one.

They parted and Erestor was about to ask him where he was being sent to next, when Glorfindel unexpectedly spun him around, resuming their original position by the fireplace. The silky hardness of Fin’s length pressed vertically against the furrow of Erestor’s arse. It was all the counselor could do not to beg his gilded lover to take him quick and hard, but he knew they were not prepared, and the sage scented oil was on the nightstand in the bedroom, all the way across the room. A heard of charging oliphants could not make Erestor move from this spot. A deliciously irresistible drawn out foreplay would be Glorfindel’s plan of attack. But Erestor felt the entire evening had been their foreplay, and now he wanted to be satisfied quickly, just to ease the edge off his desire. They had the entire evening to love each other slow and delicately.

“Fin,” Erestor started with a breathy desperate whisper.

“I know what you want, Meldanya,” Glorfindel said against Erestor’s shoulder blade. As he spoke, his hand came around, taking the counselor’s pulsing member in his palm as he began stroking. “I know exactly what you want.”

The first strokes were long and slow. Then they quickened and a rhythm started. Erestor’s hands reached behind, grasping Glorfindel’s hips, fingers digging into his flesh, pulling him against his backside. The elf lord’s hand kept sliding up and down, from tip to base, faster and with every pump of his hips. Erestor would usually stop him before he spent himself, but tonight was different. With the building tension throughout the dinner and waiting for Glorfindel to come home, he knew he would not last long. He let his lover stroke him into oblivion, when at last, the first tendrils of restraint began to unfurl themselves, building … building … until he could not contain himself any longer and he erupted, crying out in pleasure. His whole body leaned back against Glorfindel as he spilled into his lover’s hand. Fin held him firmly and moaned into his ear. “That’s it, Erestor, let go. Mmm, you are magnificent.”

He had barely recovered when Erestor felt Glorfindel’s hand, slick with seed, begin moistening them both, arse and cock. It wasn’t as thorough as oil, but it saved them from having to pause and interrupt the moment.

Suddenly, Glorfindel was positioned, pulsing and ready to take his turn. Obviously, the warrior had not escaped the tension felt earlier either. Erestor would not deny him, and put both of his hands on the mantel shelf, pushed back, and offered himself for Glorfindel’s use. The next thing he knew, he was being filled and stretched. He cried out a hushed obscenity, not from anger, but because pain and pleasure rode so close together.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you, but it just feels so good like this,” Glorfindel whispered.

Erestor answered by turning his head as far as he could to the side, and grabbing a handful of Fin’s mane, jerking his head down and demanding another fiery kiss. Glorfindel obeyed the gesture without disappointing. In this standing position, they could go for a while before completion. Neither one was ready to reach that point yet, although Erestor could sense Fin’s need rising quickly. Just when he thought his lover was ready to spend himself, Glorfindel pulled away, and moving faster than lightening, the elf lord had Erestor on the rug in front of the hearth, pinned to the floor. Those beautiful blue eyes were intensely trained on Erestor’s own hazel ones, a look that said they would reach this next level of ecstasy together.

Erestor was only too happy to oblige, and started to wrap his ankles around Fin’s waist when he realized something. “Oh, I’ve forgotten to take off the boots.”

“Leave them,” Fin demanded, “I want to feel them wrapped around my neck when I ride you.” As he spoke, he took Erestor’s ankles and directed them to his shoulders.

Erestor adjusted his position as Glorfindel entered. This was the best possible place to be, beneath his golden lover, legs in the air, face to face with this beautiful elf. And then there was the pair of boots, grasping onto Glorfindel’s skin, and giving Erestor more leverage. He dug his heels in, which seemed to excite Fin, who then increased his rhythm, striking Erestor again and again in that one glorious spot. The scent of the new leather mixed with the red willow incense and the musk of Erestor’s earlier release, a drunken mixture with their heightened senses, and one that would burn itself into memory. Erestor grasped a fistful of Fin’s hair, pulled him down and devoured his mouth, exchanging moans of pleasure. This made Glorfindel push down, deeper to that point of no return, an explosion of sensory overload. Every muscle rigid, every inch of skin alive and tingling, warmth spreading deep within, pulsating, flexing, hard as steel. They forgot to breathe, and only did so when their senses returned, sharing each other’s breath. Bodies damp with perspiration from the fire within the hearth and the fire within themselves. Yet, the boots clung to Glorfindel’s skin, as though fused from the heat they created. Finally, the elf lovers collapsed, muscles relaxing, softening within the warmth. Glorfindel slipped from Erestor’s body, eased the booted feet back to the rug, and took up his usual spot next to Erestor. The counselor turned to his side, draped an arm over Fin’s chest, and contoured to his lover’s side. After a few moments of recovery, Erestor laughed in a huff of breath. “Now I know why you brought me riding boots.”

Glorfindel laughed heartily, “Oh, Erestor, I do love your sense of humor, but I don’t need boots to enjoy that kind of ride … although I wouldn’t say no if we did that again.” He took up a strand of Erestor’s braided black hair and twirled it in his fingers. “Actually, when I gave them to you, I was going to ask you to accompany me on my next adventure. I’ll be gone for a long while, and the thought of not having you with me was too much.”

Gone for a while, Erestor thought, tossing the names of different places around in his head, “Are we going to Gondor? Or perhaps Ithilien? I hear that most of the gardens have been restored to their original beauty. I’d dearly love to see it as it once was.”

“Not Gondor or Ithilien, though that is a good guess,” Glorfindel hinted.

“Lothlórien?” Erestor guessed again. It was not as far as Gondor, but one could forget the days as they quietly passed in the Golden Wood.

“Not Lothlórien either,” Glorfindel answered. “And not Lindon, though I know how you long to visit the seaside town.”

Running out of choices, Erestor gave up and began tracing his finger in a circle around Fin’s nipple. “Tell me then, or shall I force out the answer.”

“Mmm, I like the idea of a challenge, Meldanya,” Glorfindel moaned, enjoying the caress of Erestor’s feather light touch upon his chest. “I can endure as much pain or pleasure as you think it will take to get me to speak.”

Erestor smiled deviously, “Is that so?” He stretched until his mouth was at Glorfindel’s nipple, took it in his teeth, and pulled until the elf lord gasped.

Glorfindel looked down and watched his lover give his glorious torture, all the excitement of their earlier coupling returning quickly. “Alright, I’ll tell you. We are going to Mirkwood.”

Erestor released the tender pebbling skin and glanced up at Fin. “Mirkwood? Why Mirkwood?” He was a little disappointed. The wood elven city held no charm as did the other realms. It was dark and dank, and still smelled of decay. Once a beautiful green forest, it had fallen to evil magic where creatures of one’s worst nightmares dwelled. After the Ring war, the enemy was vanquished, but the damage had been done, and it would take years for the Rhovanion to recover. This news also vanquished his appetite for their love games, and Erestor slid from Glorfindel’s chest, coming to rest at his side.

Fin rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. “I know it is not exactly what you must have had in mind.”

“No, not at all,” Erestor said disappointedly.

“But I have received news from the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. There is to be a celebration at King Thranduil’s home.”

Erestor looked curiously at Fin. “Lothlórien and Mirkwood … celebrating? In the same place at the same time?” This came as a surprise. It was a well-known fact that these two elvish races did not get along very well.

“The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn have declared that Mirkwood shall be restored and renamed. The wood will once again thrive as it did, lush and green and full of life,” Glorfindel informed. “And we have been invited to join in the celebration.”

Erestor stared up at the ceiling, pondering this information. “Huh, imagine that. Thranduil, Galadriel and Celeborn in the same room together. That’s something that I thought I’d never see while I still dwelled on these shores. So, when do we leave?”

“In two days’ time, if that is alright with you,” Fin answered. He rolled on top of Erestor, pinning him to the floor again.

“You are giving me a choice this time?” Erestor asked. Usually, the elf lord dictated when and where they were going.

Glorfindel grinded his hips against his lover, “Well, I thought you might need time to break in those boots before making the long journey.” He positioned himself upon Erestor’s long form.

“Oh, I think two days is plenty of time to break them in. Besides, we’ve already gotten a head start,” Erestor said as he brought his booted feet up, wrapping them around Fins back once more.

Glorfindel moaned. “Mmm, we most certainly have, Meldanya.”

***THE END***


End file.
